


The Marauders: A History

by littlejeanniebean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlejeanniebean/pseuds/littlejeanniebean
Summary: How a boy whose soft-spoken demeanour held a deep secret, a most unlikely Gryffindor who was always eager to please, a black sheep with a foul mouth, and a bespectacled lad's lad with a quick temper, became the legends who are Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 20





	1. Padfoot: The Sorting

_Ah, another Black - with an even stronger rebellion brewing within,_ a wavering rumble from the musty old hat rolled through his entire being, straight through his core.

The long-haired boy recovered quickly with an impatient huff, _Don't bullshit me, Sortie._

_That foulness runs in the family too. Clearly, you must be -_

_Wait!_ he sat straighter.

 _Yes?_ the hat could feel the pieces coming together in the boy's mind, but waited patiently for him to formulate the whole thought himself.

_That kid with the glasses and those two next to him - you have eyes, don't you?_

_What about them, Black?_

_Where are you sorting them?_

_I don't work that way._

_What did I just say a minute ago? Don't bullsh-_

_What. About. Them. Black._

_Would ya stop callin' me tha'?_

_Alright, Sirius._

_I don't like that one either._

_Fine,_ the hat shifted himself atop the boy's head, getting into a more comfortable position.

The students were starting to whisper idly, wondering what was taking so long. But both the boy and the hat were content to remain at an impasse until one or the other conceded.

 _Where were you planning to put me -_ don't _say it, just tell me._

_Well, you have the cunning of an honourable Slytherin, the brashness of a proud Gryffindor, the quick wit of a brilliant Ravenclaw, and I'm not going to bullshit you by saying you've got the patience of a noble Hufflepuff._

He chortled, _You can say that again. I don't mind the little yellow-scarves though. And you still haven't given me an answer._

The hat hummed, _Slytherin. But just by how you recoil at the name, I know that's not the right one for you after all._

_I just don't like dungeons. Not enough insulation, you know._

_You're a wizard. And despite the serious safety hazard that it is, one of the first things they teach you is how to cast a fireball. C'mon, this only works if neither of us are talking out of our arses._

_... Fine, but only because_ my arse _is starting to cramp up on this stool..._ the boy sighed and slouched, _You can't talk to anyone from that house. They'll use it, twist it, shove it down your throat when you least expect it. You can't trust them and you become someone who can't be trusted to protect yourself._

 _A rebel who wants to belong. A fighter who wants some peace. An intriguing paradox. I look forward to watching your progress,_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

 _You could've given me a head's up, you nasty titfer,_ the heavy rim of the hat was lifted and he saw the boys he met on the train cheering along with the red and gold table.

"See you in a bit!" James Potter called over the din.

He nodded, stretching a lazy grin across his face. But he didn't fully relax until the three were clustered around him once more like they had been in the train compartment.

"I've got it!" James got the boys' attention with a juicy drumstick, " _Padfoot_. 'Cause of how you snuck up to us so quietly on the train. What do you think?"

"I like it," said the newly-christened Moony.

"It suits you," added Peter.

" _Padfoot_ ," the name rolled like a wave over his tongue, settling deep inside his person, "Ta, lads," he raised his goblet to them.


	2. Wormtail: What's in a Name?

"Watch where you're going, _rat_! Ha-ha!"

" _Awww_ , is ickle Petey lost without his friends?"

"Bet they got _sick_ of you tailin' 'em, didn't they?"

"Think you can _worm your way_ outta here?" one of the Gryffindor upper years yanked him back by the hood of his robe and shoved him to the ground.

" _Leave_. _Me_. _Alone_!" cried the small, stout boy as a hundred screeching rodents burst forth from the castle walls and leapt upon his tormentors, "I'msorry!I'msorry!" he scrambled to his feet and ran, tears stinging at his rosy apple cheeks.

Even in his second year at Hogwarts, Peter was prone to bouts of accidental magic. Their first exam of the year, he turned everybody's papers to confetti five minutes before the period ended because of how nervous he was. McGonagall scolded him severely for that and took twenty points off, but stopped short giving him detention when he was reduced to a puddle of pathetic sniffs and hiccups.

At the first Quidditch match of the season, which is what everyone in Gryffindor was now hounding him for, he turned the quaffle into a goose for two chaotic seconds because James and Mulciber were fighting over it so viciously, neither noticed that they were about to run straight into one of the towers. James had said he'd rather lose the quaffle than all his teeth, but the fact remained, Mulciber stole and now they had to score a near-impossible hundred-point lead in the Hufflepuff game to win - the badgers' seeker held the record for fastest game time!

Peter's father would tell him to "get a grip." He was a Pettigrew and while they'd never had much, they had their bravery and they had their wits. Sometimes, Peter felt like he had neither and that felt bloody rotten.

"Hey, Petey," Remus greeted him quietly, swathed in three comforters and an oversized jumper in the middle of his four-poster.

"Hey, Moony," he sat at the foot of the bed, "You feeling better?"

"Much, thank you."

"What did Madame Pomfrey say?"

" _Oh_ ," the brunet boy waved dismissively, "just not to spend so many of the wee hours reading, that's all..." he noticed the tear at the seam where Peter's hood met the rest of his robe, "What happened to you?"

"Nothing..."

"Petey..."

"I just..." Peter held up the letter he had gone for in the owlery, "They finally did it. M'parents. They separated."

"I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright!" said the boy quickly, swiping his pudgy arm across his distraught face, "It's alright! Father was always... always so mean and - and... and Mother would always... always be _pleading_ to her _weak_ , good-for-nothing _excuse_ of a son - 'Petey, _please_ , Petey, don't you think you could try a little _harder_ , Petey?' I'm bloody _weary_ with it!"

"Hey," Remus shed one of his blankets and wrapped it securely around him, "You know none of that's true of you."

"I just wish I could be more like... like James or... or Padfoot. I hate being me."

"I know exactly how you feel."

This shocked him, "But... the boys _love_ you, Moony. You're brilliant!"

"I'm sickly."

"You're the best student among us!"

"Don't let Shacklebolt hear you say that," he chuckled, thinking of their dorm-mate, who was civil enough with them, but rather disliked bearing witness to their shenanigans so often and having to keep their secrets so Gryffindor wouldn't lose any more points. "And the boys love you like a brother, by the way."

"Well, the older boys don't think much of me."

"And why do you think much of what _they_ think?"

"Don't you?"

" _Should_ I? ... Were they teasing you again?"

"Don't tell James or Pads!" he said quickly, "Please."

"Don't tell James or Pads what?" like they'd been summoned, the two best friends burst in in full quidditch gear.

"Pads, why are _you_ dressed?" Remus sipped his tea.

"Red's just my colour," the boy removed the keeper's helmet and shook out his long dark hair.

"I was just asking Peter a hypothetical question," the pale-faced boy covered for his friend, "If someone ever... called you things that made you think... less of yourself... what would you do?"

"Who's bothering you, Moons?" James' eyes flashed behind his glasses, ready for a fight.

"No one," the soft boy shrugged casually, "It's hypothetical."

"Then hypothetically, you would hex their food when they least expect it, so they throw up in their cauldron during a particularly volatile potions lesson -"

"Wait, is _that_ what happened to Mulciber after the match?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," James twirled his wand deftly.

"And... if you're not good at hexes..." Peter refrained from adding, 'like me,' "maybe... maybe you can take whatever they throw at you and just... own it. Like you, Padfoot! All red and gold no matter what your family in Slytherin says about it!"

"That's the spirit, Petey!" the boy in question slapped him on the back.

He flinched, but recovered bravely, "A-actually... could... could you boys call... call me... Wormtail from now on?"

The boys shared an agreeable look and Remus answered for them all, "Sure, how did you come up with that one?"

"Oh, I... I just set about a hundred rats on -"

" _Pettigrew_!" McGonagall barked through a sonorous charm, "Get down here and apologize to Bagman and his friends! I will not have my house fighting amongst itself at a time like this!"

"Always hard on the cat to lose a game," Padfoot shook his head.

Remus, meanwhile, was in stitches, "So _that_ was what that was! I could hear him _squealing_ through the tower window! Nice one, Wormtail!"

James threw an arm around the shorter boy, "I know Bagman and his crew have been giving you a hard time. McGonagall will understand - I'll just tell her I was with you and witnessed the whole thing. C'mon then, Wormtail."

"Thanks, James," the boy's blue eyes watered, but they were no longer sad. These were friends who would look out for him and in that moment, he was grateful.


	3. Moony: Trust Fall

"I don't think this is such a good idea, lads," Wormtail quivered from under the invisibility cloak, "Moony _always_ respects _our_ privacy!"

"Shh!" James and Padfoot hissed, huddled close beside him.

If Albus Dumbledore saw an odd shoe or edge of a cloak ambling across the moonlit grounds towards the Whomping Willow after him, he didn't let on. The sagely wizard simply cast an engorgio charm on a twig and touched it to the knot at the base of the willow.

"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed James.

"Calm down, Sleekeazy," Padfoot snorted.

" _No_. Just _no_ ," said the boy as he cast lumos once Dumbledore and Moony had disappeared into the passageway, "Padfoot, would you care to do the honours?"

"Don't mind if I do, Evans-eyes," the long-haired boy touched the tree knot.

"Up yours, follow me, and for Godric's sake, don't get the cloak caught in anything."

Halfway through the tunnel, the boys heard a chilling howl.

"Do... do you think this leads to the Forbidden Forest?" Wormtail's wand arm was terribly unsteady with fear.

"There are no werewolves in the Forbidden Forest," James assured him.

"Can't say the same for normal wolves, though," Padfoot couldn't resist, earning a smack upside the head from James.

"Dumbledore's on the other side with Moony. It can't be dangerous."

"Right," Wormtail nodded vigorously, mostly to himself, "Right."

"A dead-end," James huffed.

"A trap door," Padfoot pointed up.

"Ah, I knew that. _Alohamora_ ," he jiggled the enchanted padlock, but it was still locked fast.

"Ow!"

"Alright, Wormtail?" James checked on their friend.

"Fine. Just stubbed my toe on a rock - hey! There's a key under here," he handed it over to the taller boys to use.

Padfoot stood on James' shoulders and threw the door open, "Et viol-"

A low growl in the dark had them backing up against the tunnel wall.

"What... what is that?" Wormtail hid behind James, who bravely held his wand aloft and said,

"C'mon, Moony needs us! _Ascendio_!" he landed neatly only to see Dumbledore sitting primly on the sofa at the centre of a torn-apart living room, a werewolf - yes, a werewolf, at his feet.

Padfoot followed, quiet as ever, and Wormtail, well, Wormtail tried his best.

"Oof! Sorry, sorry!" he dusted himself off as he stood.

The old man held his fingers to his lips and beckoned the boys closer.

"Where's Moony, Headmaster?" James whispered, sitting beside him.

He gazed upon them over his half-moon glasses, "Do you not see him? You're his closest friends, are you not? Do you not recognize him?"

"Oh, Moony," Padfoot knelt down beside the sleeping creature, weary from his transformation, "No wonder you're always exhausted..."

Wormtail wandered closer and Padfoot made room.

"How can we help him?" James asked, brown eyes sharp and alert.

"You _have_ been, _all_ of you. Your friendship reminds him that he is _still_ a wizard and _still_ in the most _essential_ way, human. But we must go now. When he wakes... he will not be so tame."

"But this is when he needs us most!" Padfoot protested in a hushed tone.

Wormtail swallowed his fear and nodded in agreement.

"In that case, there is a book in the restricted section," Dumbledore handed them a permission slip, "I suggest you give it a read."

"Advanced Transfiguration Volume VII," James read it, "Sir, with all due respect -"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," said the boys.

"Then you will read it. And perhaps you will be able to return here sooner than you think."

The werewolf whimpered and stirred.

"May we say goodbye?" asked Padfoot.

The headmaster nodded.

"It's us, Moony," said the bespectacled boy, "James, Pads, and Wormtail... We're here for you. Hang in there."

"I'll have a trunk full of chocolate frogs waiting for you when you get back," Padfoot said loud enough for the others to hear and then leaned in so he was barely a centimeter from the wolf's ear, "We love you, Moons, you can always count on that."

"When you told me you knew how I felt, about feeling like an outsider," said Wormtail, "I had no idea... _I'm_ the one who can't possibly know... but... we're the Marauders. We'll figure this out. You'll see."

The boys retraced their steps through the tunnel, Dumbledore bringing up the rear. As they reemerged from under the Whomping Willow, they heard a low, mournful howl.

Once the boys got their hands on the book, there was much to do. Upon Moony's return from "the private hospital wing," he did not fail to notice all the "secret" running about by the other three marauders.

"Wormtail," he stopped the boy on his way to Divination, "James and Padfoot aren't doing anything stupid, are they?"

"No more than usual," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Prongs said you just rest up until it's time to do your bit -"

" _Prongs_?"

"Uh... I think I hear... my... stomach growling... because I'm starving. I'm just... gonnapopondowntothekitchensnowbye!"

" _Prongs_ ," the pale-faced boy said to a full and suddenly very silent dormitory that evening. James was the first to raise his head before he realized who was speaking, as Moony expected.

"I'm just going to leave now," Kingsley Shacklebolt shut the door behind him.

"Right," Moony slid off the bed and looked at each boy in turn, "Who wants to go first?"

"Well, we've been trying to come up with a nickname for James for a while," Wormtail.

"And we learned to cast patronuses for kicks," Padfoot.

"Mine turned out to be a stag," Prongs.

"Is there... a reason none of you wanted to share this with me?" Moony asked with a subdued quietness.

" _No_!" Padfoot.

"No, not at _all_!" Prongs.

"We just wanted to wait until you were feeling better," explained Wormtail, "but we know how you are around the opportunity to learn something new. I fainted _seven times_ before I could hold the spell."

"That's all, _truly_ ," Prongs.

"If you are feeling better, Moons, we can show you right now," Padfoot grabbed his wand, "The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_ but the most important part is to think happy thoughts."

Moony barely heard him and his eyes were far away as he spoke, "You know what, lads... You're right, I... I am feeling rather tired. I suppose I should wait a bit... and perhaps pay Pomfrey another visit -"

Wormtail scampered off his bed quickly, "Wait, Moony -"

"It's alright. I'm alright. Night."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Padfoot cast a frustrated reducto on his mattress, which proceeded to explode in fluffy white feathers.

"That... could have gone better," Prongs wiped his glasses on the hem of his pajama shirt.

"He'll understand when he sees us in the shack next month... right?" Wormtail chewed on his nails.

"Of course," Padfoot said both for his friend and himself, "Of course, he will. But he wouldn't let us do it if he knows beforehand, so we _must_ keep the secret for now. As difficult as it may be."

That entire month, Moony moped and trudged, and ate far too much chocolate. The Marauders' secrecy persisted and he finally wrote home, asking to be removed from Hogwarts because he was feeling so poorly and strongly suspected that Dumbledore intercepted his letter somehow because he was summoned to the headmaster's office within the next twenty-four hours. Or perhaps it was simply the morning before a full moon night.

"Chocolate frog, Mr. Lupin?"

"No, thank you, sir."

"I see..." he gestured for the boy to have a seat, "Your professors have expressed some concern with your performance this month."

"Sorry, Headmaster."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to. Nor to your professors."

"I'm not good with riddles, sir. That's the only reason I told the hat 'hard pass' on Ravenclaw."

Dumbledore chuckled, "May I ask how you are _feeling_ , Mr. Lupin?"

The boy sensed what subject the old man was trying to be tactful in broaching, "The new wolfsbane brew helps greatly, sir. Thank you."

"But how are _you_ feeling?"

"Sir?"

"You, _Remus John Lupin_ , how do you feel?"

The boy's shoulders sagged in defeat underneath his oversized jumper, "I'm grateful for the opportunity to study here, Professor Dumbledore, but I... I don't think I can continue to... to put other students' lives at risk. I've written home and... we'll make other arrangements for my education."

"You mention, 'risk.'"

"Yes, because of... what I am."

"Since you mention your dislike for riddles, I will be direct. To place your life is another's hands is a great risk, but so too is it to lay your heart bare. And that is where trust comes in. Trust in your friends and their goodness, and in yourself and yours. I'll see you tonight, Remus."

"Yeah."

At dusk they followed the familiar trail down to the Whomping Willow, then to the Shrieking Shack. Dumbledore lifted the trap door and smiled behind his long white beard, "After you, Mr. Lupin."

"Thank y- _Padfoot_? _Prongs_? _Wormtail_?" he looked at each quietly excited boy in turn, "What are you lot doing here?"

"Watch, watch!" Wormtail squealed excitedly, his ears already beginning to enlarge while his head shrunk, and then a little garden rat emerged from his crumpled robes.

Padfoot was next, and he turned into a shaggy black dog. Prongs, a handsome stag.

"I... I don't understand..." Remus marvelled at the animals - his _friends_.

The boys changed back.

"If you happen to bite us accidentally in wolf form, we won't turn if we're in our _animagus_ form!" Prongs explained happily.

"Ani-animag- that's - how - you - might've - _so_ much could've gone _wrong_ trying it before physical maturity!"

"Which is _exactly_ why we had to keep it secret until we'd done it!" Padfoot leapt in a circle around him, "So you wouldn't stress trying to talk us out of it!"

Moony felt his bones begin to creak, his eyesight began to shift, and his teeth sharpen ever so slightly. Yet, he was so full of elation and love for the boys - _his_ boys. He hugged each of them quickly while he could and they transformed together.

**Bonus scene:**

" _Expecto Patronum_!" Moony closed his eyes and thought hard about the night before. Seeing his friends, feeling their presence and care even in his transformed state. When they played hide and seek and Wormtail always won and James always lost. And when he awoke to the sun peaking through the tattered curtains, his form was human, but he could still feel a patch of coarse fur tickling at his side. It was Padfoot as a black dog, snoring louder and drooling more than the boy usually did. Moony had never smiled so wide so soon after a full moon.

" _Expecto Patronum_!" a silver wolf burst forth from the tip of his wand and darted in and out of the trees at the edge of the forest.


	4. Prongs: Necessity for Apology

In over a century, no one's house points had ever reached negative numbers. Never before had anyone achieved a nice, round -1000. The Marauders, naturally, took pride in that achievement for three reasons (Moony made the list with the flourish of an academic). 1) Snivellus wasn't the reason they were caught, 2) they were notorious and definitely getting a footnote in the next edition of Hogwarts: A History, and 3) the ban on them getting together as a group had been essentially lifted, seeing as they would have to serve detention together (although the wards McGonagall put up in their dorm to keep them apart at all times were still in effect).

"Potter!" angrily.

"Evans!" ~~jovially. You mean smitten.~~ Shut up, Padfoot.

"Well, well, well, the perfect little Ms. Evans. Never thought we'd see your pretty face hereabouts," Padfoot threw his feet up on the professor's temporarily vacated desk, winked, and feigned obliviousness to Prongs' scowl.

Evans sent him to the floor with a casual flick of her wand.

"Did you just -" Prongs.

"Did she just -" Wormtail whispered to Moony.

"I do believe she just -" Moony blinked.

"Silent casting," Prongs was the first to recover, "I always knew you were trying to impress me, E."

"I need you to apologize to Sev," she ignored his comment.

"I still don't know why you call him that, like he's your friend or something-"

"Because he is!"

"He called you -"

"I know what he called me!"

"So why's it me you're yellin' at?"

"How do you think it makes him feel when you showboat around him? Tease him, heckle him endlessly? He doesn't want to be around me because of you - the lot of you! So now he's joined Mulciber's crew and it's not good for him!"

"E, he made his choice -"

"He'd unmake it if you apologized."

"Not even Merlin could make me."

"Evans, Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew," McGonagall addressed them briskly.

"Wait, she really has got detention?" Padfoot.

"Surprisingly," replied their head of house.

"Just detention or points off?"

"And why should that be any of your business, Mr. Black?" she snapped.

Moony shook his head slightly at Padfoot. The house cup was a point of pride for Minerva and this close to their OWLs she didn't think they'd recover. That was usually their play, you see. Prank their way through the year and then somehow win the cup in a landslide between Moony's grades, Prongs on the pitch, and Padfoot and Wormtail sabotaging everyone else. It was something of an open secret no one could prove.

But Padfoot was itching to find out if they'd really hit the -1000. He'd calculated it so meticulously, you see, Moony even suggested him joining the Arithmancy class.

"Have you determined how many points we've lost yet?" the dogged ~~(see what I did there?)~~ boy asked.

"990," the old lady said with just a hint of a smirk. Like she kept them from their goal _on purpose_. Was that still worthy of a footnote? Absolutely. Was that still going to give them all detentions to plan their exploits until the end of the year? Undoubtedly. But Padfoot could never take as well as he could shell out when it came to spite.

To any casual observer, it would seem he was simply nervously fidgeting his hands. But the other Marauders understood the gestures, _The cat is going down. The only question is how._

 _Nononononono,_ Moony.

 _She scares me, I don't think we should,_ Wormtail.

 _Dig into her. Find blackmail. Have her participate in a charade where we save her life and she awards us enough points to win the cup._ Prongs.

 _And they say_ I _belong in Slytherin,_ Padfoot.

 _A true act of bravery is humbling yourself in order to do the right thing._ Evans. At this point, they weren't surprised she knew their hand signals.

 _Hey, Evans, Prongs really, really likes -,_ Prongs immobilized Padfoot's hands.

_No one will notice, E. They kind of need to know about it to award us points for it._

_I'll know._ she gestured delicately.

 _He's gonna do it,_ Moony.

 _Agreed,_ Wormtail.

 _I'll do it,_ Prongs.

When detention was over, they headed to the Ravenclaw courtyard. According to Evans, Mulciber and Co. would be just finishing duelling club.

"Hey, Marauders! The dancing pineapples were great stuff! Best yet!" Alice gave them a thumbs up with one hand, the other was interlaced with Frank Longbottom's, who gave them a shy grin.

"We do live to please," Padfoot bowed dramatically.

"M-my favourite part were the rabbits - h-how did you get them to disappear into the unenchanted hat?" the quiet boy asked.

"Old muggle trick," Moony proudly professed.

"Don't encourage them, you two!" Evans shook her head, although Prongs would later swear he saw her mouth twitch in amusement, "Move along, then."

Mulciber and a few other Slytherins were the only ones still in the courtyard when the small group arrived.

"Godric help me," Prongs murmured, pausing to wipe his glasses. He could _scourgify_ , but he found the physical action therapeutic, "Hey, Sniv-"

Evans jabbed him in the gut.

Prongs took a deep breath. He was Gryffindor. He didn't have all that much Hufflepuff tolerance, but he could muster the courage to swallow his pride, "Snape."

The greasy, pale boy with a nose too big for his sullen face emerged from the black-robed group, hunched slightly on the defensive, "You have something to say to me, Potter?"

"Yes..." the silence was heavier than a full cauldron, "Yes, I do."

There was more silence. Shuffling. Whispered jeers. But no one wanted to go up against the Marauders, not with the three-time duelling champion, Evans standing on their side.

Looking down at his shoes, Prongs spoke, "I... I would like to... apologize."

The snickers were quickly silenced with a deft twirl of Evans' wand.

"I would like to apologize," he raised his eyes and looked at Snape evenly, willing him to believe he was sincere, "I realize I may have offended you. I... regret to say it was intentional. You're not... not bad... Snape," using the boy's proper name still felt foreign, and it only made Prongs feel all the guiltier, "You're smart, smarter than I'll ever be. And... and long before anyone ever realized how incredible, and talented, and - and - and _magical_ E, here, is, _you_ believed in her. Honestly, that... that made me jealous. And I'm sorry I took that out on you. It won't happen again. Not from me, not from any of the boys. Marauders' honour."

For a while, it seemed everyone was too shocked to speak. The boys assumed Prongs would utter a simple "sorry" and be done with it. But Evans' reaction, oh, her face was burned into his memory at that moment. It was the first time she looked at him like _that_. Like he had touched her heart.

"Sev," Evans ventured, but when she stepped forward, he recoiled, his eyes flitting about nervously, looking anywhere but her, but the Marauders, "Sev... what... what do you think?"

"You put him up to this," he spat.

"Well... I -"

"This is some kind of... some kind of _prank_ , well, I don't buy it!" he rounded on Evans, "How could you take part in this?"

"Sev!"

"Snape..." Prongs sighed, "as much as it pains me to say, I meant every word. And frankly, if I was in her shoes and you'd just called me a - a - that filthy word, this would _absolutely_ be a prank, but as it stands, she's a much better person than I am."

Snape snarled at Evans, "You _dropped_ me the moment Mr. Too-Good-for-Anyone here, _waltzed_ in. There was no room in Slughorn's little _club_ for me, his _top_ Potions student! I was... I was... What was I supposed to think? Well, I'm with Mulciber and Lucius now. At least they value loyalty. At least they value _me_."

Something in the girl's sharp green eyes snapped, "I was his _tutor_! I _had_ to be around him! How _dare_ you try to use that to _justify_ your - your - your superiority complex! You don't think your half-blood heritage is something to be proud of. You _blame it_ for your failures as a wizard. You couldn't stand that I - with not a _drop_ of magical blood - could succeed," she teared up and angrily rubbed her sleeve against her freckled cheeks, "You stopped believing in me a long time ago. But I never wanted to stop believing in you. Now I see you've made your position clear. In which case, there's nothing left to be said."

She stalked off, chin tucked into her chest and fists balled tight at her side. With a glare at Snape, Prongs followed her. The rest of the group followed Prongs. Snape sniffed, turned back to the other Slytherins, and was relieved they asked no questions. But it wasn't for his comfort. They just didn't care.

News quickly spread across the castle of _The_ James Potter apologizing to Snivellus. All the professors knew of it.

Dumbledore called Prongs into his office. When he came out, Gryffindor had earned fifty points. He won another 150 and the Quidditch cup the following week.

Flitwick asked Moony to stay after Charms class. When he came out, Gryffindor had earned seventy points for devising seven levels of achievement for pineapple tap-dances for use in future final exams.

~~McGonagall asked Padfoot to loan her the enchanted bike he stashed in the Shrieking Shack. The Gryffindor's silence was bought for five hundred points.~~

Evans won the duelling cup (again) - another hundred and fifty. She also brewed an Amortentia so potent Slughorn was essentially drugged into handing them seven hundred points.

Wormtail let a dung bomb go off in Filch's office. Slytherin, who was the only house still in the lead at this point, lost 100 points, one for every member of Mulciber's crew, except Lucius, who got his girlfriend, Narcissa to vouch for him, saying he was in the common room the entire time.

Under the red and gold banners in the Great Hall, Evans called Prongs out on staring at her.

"You're beautiful, E," he shrugged like it was a simple fact. He let himself say it because he knew she would think he's only teasing.

"And you've got pumpkin pasty on your cheek," she returned, her eyes smiling.

"Tell her how you feel," Padfoot sang.

"Tell her that it's real," Moony.

"Tell her you're stupefied from your head down to your heels!" Wormtail, slightly off key, followed by a burp that makes his plump cheeks turn red.

Prongs and Evans laugh it off, not meeting each other's eyes.

"You know, you never did tell us how you ended up in detention," the bespectacled boy changed the subject.

"Oh, I... may or may not have transfigured Malfoy..."

"Into what?" the boys chorused eagerly.

"A... A ferret."

They guffawed.

"And they say I'm not your type," Prongs winked, his bravado back in full swing.

"It - It was an accident! It was just supposed to turn his hair into a skunk on his head, but -"

They laughed uproariously for two minutes straight until their ribs were sore and their eyes tearing.

"But," Evans continued, "I was so mad I... he goaded Sev - Severus. He turned him into someone... someone he didn't have to be."

Prongs had never felt so lucky that his friends have stuck by him since the beginning. He couldn't imagine how she felt. He gently placed his hand over hers and gave her a comforting squeeze. She smiled graciously. She was looking at him like _that_ again.

"Moony, I know what we're going to do this summer," Padfoot slung his arm around his friend.

"Padfoot, I believe I do as well," they clinked their goblets together.

"Oi, Frank!"

"Oh, Alice!"

"We're getting Jily together! Wanna help?"

"Pads, that's never going to catch on."

**Bonus Scene:**

"Okay, picture this, fireworks during the summer solstice depicting all the best Jily moments -" Padfoot.

"He'll serenade her with a ballad we'll write about love through the ages -" Moony.

"Over a picnic with only sweet things like chocolate and pumpkin pasties - he can pull the 'pumpkin pasty on your cheek' line on _her_!" Wormtail.

"While a garden of roses dances around them, petals floating in the summer breeze -" Alice.

"W-why doesn't he just tell her how he feels? J-just keep it honest and simple?" all eyes riveted to Frank incredulously, "I-I-I mean, it worked when he apologized to Snape, didn't it?"

"Nononono, this is different!" Padfoot exclaimed.

"Exactly, the research doesn't lie!" Moony pointed at the piles of Witch Weekly back issues he'd read for their plot.

Alice nodded, "You went big with me, Frankie, and look at us now!"

"W-well, I was stepping out of my comfort zone. You appreciated that. Y-you did, didn't you?"

"Yes, my little softie," she kissed his cheek.

"Oh, okay, great, I mean, I - I know we're together and everything, but I - I didn't want to presume... anyway - James would be perfectly at home with a flamboyant gesture. He needs something grounding, something that will make Lily take him seriously."

"Merlin's beard, he's right! We'll lock them in a broom closet!" Padfoot declared.

"The library at the Potters'," said Moony, "it's more romantic."

"To you, maybe," Alice chortled.

"No, no, but she used to tutor him in the library at Hogwarts, it's perfect!" Wormtail exalted.

Padfoot slapped the plump blond in the back, "Excellent! Frank, you tell Prongs to wait for you there, he won't suspect anything coming from you. Alice... well, Evans won't buy it coming from you, but maybe get her to ingest some of Moony's sleeping drought, that way she won't not come."

"You want me to kidnap my best friend?"

"Well... er, yes?"

"I'll do it!"

She did it. Evans was upset and muttered something about being "Not some bloody princess." Prongs was upset and swore up and down he knew nothing about it.

Their plans were set back by about two years when 'Jily' got together all on their own.


End file.
